


T-Shirts

by montparnope



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, bless his heart honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 02:31:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montparnope/pseuds/montparnope
Summary: Peter borrows a shirt from Tony because he made a mess in the lab, but that shirt causes him to make another mess.





	T-Shirts

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this isn't great. I havent written fanfiction in years. I'm just a 17 year old boy trying my best. Enjoy!

His room was cold but Peter couldn’t be bothered to put on anything more than the t-shit Mr. Stark gave him after he ruined his while working in the lab today. His muscles ached and his mind and body were exhausted from patrolling the city nearly every night for the past two weeks, so he doubted he would be able to get up even if he cared to.

However tired he was though, he could not fall asleep. He rolled from side to side, onto his tummy, and onto his back again but nothing felt right. He could not escape the intoxicating scent of Mr. Stark’s cologne on his shirt. The more he tried to forget it, the more he tried to count backwards from 1,000 or balance equations in his head the tighter the knot in his stomach got. He rolled over once more and the subtle friction sent blood flowing to his crotch in waves. Peter bucked his hips desperately into the mattress, craving any kind of touch. 

Giving into desire, he quickly became frustrated with the minimal contact with his fully hard erection and flipped onto his back again. He raised his hips and slowly took off his boxers, sighing languidly as the waistband slid past his cock. 

I shouldn't be doing this. This is wrong. I wont be able to look Mr. Stark in the eye tomorrow. 

Yet he continued, taking himself in his hand and stroking gently from the head to the base. With his free hand he grabbed a fist full of Mr. Stark's shirt and brought it up to his nose. He inhaled slowly and deeply until his lungs were more than full; he wanted to hold it and not let the scent escape him as he exhaled. 

Peter bucked his hips as he thought of all the things he wished to do with Mr. Stark.  
He wished to drop to his knees in front of his mentor and take his cock into his mouth. He wished to straddle his lap and fuck himself. He wished to be taken from behind, bent over a work bench in the lab.

Reaching into the drawer of his nightstand, Peter retrieved a small jar of Vaseline and coated two fingers with it. Slowly he teased circles around his entrance before inserting a finger. When he was ready, he slowly added another and whimpered as he began to move. 

"Oh fuck," he gasped as he smeared a drop of precome across the head of his cock and with a twist of his wrist he was coming onto his hand and tummy barely missing Mr. Stark's shirt (thank God). 

Peter doesn't remember what happened after he cleaned up. All he knows is that he hasn't slept that well in months.


End file.
